


Like the way they all Scream

by OverlordAvery



Category: Dirk Gently's Holistic Detective Agency (TV 2016)
Genre: I will have tags for each chapter so you know what you're in for lmao, M/M, and abuse, and torture, and yada yada, like angst, this is full of angst
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2018-10-20
Updated: 2018-10-21
Packaged: 2019-08-04 19:17:31
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 19
Words: 18,859
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/16352627
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/OverlordAvery/pseuds/OverlordAvery
Summary: A collection of Drabbles for Whump-Tober.Day 1; Priest is trying to keep Dirk safe for their current mission.





	1. Stabbed

**Author's Note:**

> **Characters** : Osmund Priest. Dirk Gently.  
>  **Warnings** : Angst. Blood. Mentions of Fighting. Stab Wound. My Favorite Trope.  
>  **Note** : dark spin off of Frenemies

Priest was no stranger to danger and fights, he’s done it for years, he excelled in them. Of course, he was more commonly known to just shoot he problem, but that was difficult when stuck in close quarters. It was usually a risk getting your gun when the person was already in reaching distance. There was no point to go for it so he and his opponent stuck with hand to hand, and later knives. He just had to keep the man away from Dirk, that was his job, that was his responsibility. He just wished Farah and Todd were there so he could at least have someone to distract the man that assaulted him. Just a little distraction to get the upper hand and they seemed to be evenly matched in their little bout.

Which was really just annoying as all hell because, really, this man was fighting this hard over a stupid  _Bicycle_. Dirk was doing what he could to get that stupid lock off the bike they needed, he was under the assumption right now that he was just too scrawny to actually cut the chain with the damn bolt cutters.

“Any time now, Dirk!”

“I’m sorry, Mr. Priest!” Priest blocked a swing, could feel his hand throbbing, but not in warning, this was in a different way. He shoved himself into the man, more or less throwing him into the other side of the room. Watching him hit into the wall and slump onto the floor he couldn’t stop his amused giggle as he looked at his hand. He really would need to figure out how to activate that amplified ability bullshit on cue… He walked over and shoved Dirk out of the way. Grabbing the bolt cutters and easily cutting through the chain.

“There. Now let’s get this stupid-”

“Mr. Priest look out!” He turned adrenaline rising as he pulled out his handgun and fired, continuing to pull the trigger as the man fell into him. He could feel blood on his clothes as he watched the man slowly fall to the ground again. Everything felt eerily still and quiet as he slowly turned his head to look at Dirk, ejecting the empty clip and loading a new one into it as he stepped over the body.

“You okay?”

“Mr. Priest-” He fell to his knee on the second step. Vision wavering as he moved his hand to the burning pain he had in his upper abdomen. Hand touching there as he felt the squish of all the blood that was soaking through his shirt. He blinked a few times and slowly dropped his gaze, looking to the cut in the shirt and the blood that was pooling down his front. That… wasn’t good. His eyes slowly casting up to see figures appearing behind Dirk who was standing in front of him. Watching the boy hold his hands over the wound he could see his mouth moving but really couldn’t hear anything over the ringing in his ears.

His hand was throbbing harder as he moved his mouth to try and tell Dirk to run only to begin coughing as his chest burned. Free hand covering his mouth as he fell to his side, eyes becoming unfocused as he tasted blood in his mouth and came to the realization that breathing was painful. Specifically, on the side of his chest where he was stabbed.

That wasn’t… wasn’t-

He felt helpless for once in a long time as he saw one of the men grab Dirk. Watching as the boy flailed and kicked and was pulled away from him as he rasped and choked on his own blood which was filling his lung. So close to the verge of falling unconscious, Dirk calling out for him and screaming fading out into white noise as he came to the very real morbid realization.

He was going to die here.


	2. Bloody Hands

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Trying to have everything back to normal after getting their agency seems harder than usual when Dirk finds himself plagued with new triggers to take him back to a place and a man he fears and loathes.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

>  **Characters** : Dirk Gently. Todd Brotzman. Mentions of Osmund Priest  
>  **Warnings** : Panic Attack. PTSD. Blood.

_Dirk_

He felt like his head was underwater, he could tell there was urgency in the voice that was speaking to him but it sounded faded, garbled. Far away. He couldn’t move though, he felt frozen just standing there, eyes glossed over and full of tears. He was staring at nothing, or he thought it was nothing. He felt heavy, yet like he was floating all at once. Everything felt like it was going so fast yet tediously slow. He couldn’t move, he couldn’t breathe. He couldn’t stop crying, tears just pouring relentlessly down his face, choking on hyperventilating breaths and snot as he felt someone touch him. He pulled away, flinching, falling back and sitting on the floor.

His hands felt gross.

His hands felt sticky and wet, yet the substance was drying and felt so tight and constricting. He was rubbing his hands on his legs, trying to get the substance off. Cowering away from the voice that followed after him. He felt like he was a child again, he felt scared, helpless, unsure, everything a flash of images that doesn’t make sense and leads to nothing but pain and misery. He felt alone, he felt cold. He didn’t want to be cold. He wanted something. He wanted someone their name was on the tip of his tongue but he couldn’t remember it.

His hands which were sticky, and wet, and gross, yet drying, cracking, and cold slid into his hair as he hugged his head to his knees. Curling up in a pathetic weak position that felt wrong and gross. He felt like he was being bad he was doing this wrong. He was going to get hurt he didn’t want to get hurt.

_Dirk_!

He tried to focus on who he wanted right now, he wanted to call to them and ask them to help. To unjumble his thoughts which were dancing around and fleeting and broken. Nothing felt the same, nothing seemed right. He felt like he was doing everything wrong.

_Wrong_

_Wrong_

_Wrong_

It was playing in his head in his voice but in that same automated way. Like he was yelling at himself for his failures. And why shouldn’t he that was all he was, he flinched when he felt hands on him, crying harder even as they felt like they meant to comfort. He moved dragging his hands down his face, smelling, and tasting the iron that just sent his thoughts back to terrible places. He could hear his giggle in his mind, he could hear his taunting calls, his taunting songs. He could imagine his foot steps and the way his gun sounded as he cocked it. He could hear people’s screams ringing in his ears as his eyes flung open and he swatted the hand away.

He felt panicked, and scared, he felt in danger and he wanted to leave but he didn’t get farther than a step before he fell again. Tripping over something as he held his head in his hands and cried, laying there pathetically, vulnerable, so it would be easy, so the man could grab him and take him and punish him. He deserved it, that’s all he deserved. He could imagine the man purring that poisonous lie in his ear. Voice feeling like thousands of tiny spiders worming their ways into his brain. He wanted to throw up, he was already heaving.

But those hands were touching him again.

“Dirk please!”

It was familiar and soft.

“I’m here for you!”

Reassuring and kind.

“Look at me,”

He flinched from that, the voice in his mind replaced with  _his_  voice. His eyes snapping up wide to look at the smaller man who held a hand out in surrender, ducking back. Like he didn’t mean to scare him or hurt him, his eyes locked on beautiful piercing blue eyes.

“Everything’s okay.” Voice was lower this time.

“ _Todd_.” He said the name and he could feel everything starting to rush back and hit him. It hit him hard, causing him to cry harder as the man helped him to sit up. As Todd held his wrists and was trying to calm him down. The man leaning in and hugging him as he wrapped his arm around him and pulled him so close. Clinging on to him as he kept repeating his name. He was so scared, he was exhausted, he felt like he had run a marathon.

“I’m here.” He was sobbing heavily as the man just held on to him. Kissing his cheek and his jaw whispering that he was there for him and everything was going to be fine. His eyes slowly opened to take in their surroundings. Could see he was in the kitchen, could see his eyes lingering on a knife. He slowly looked to his hands to see the cut he had.

Hating so much how after hearing his voice in Bergsberg he kept falling back into this.

Hating how everything vaguely linked to the man brought him back to his past so vividly.

“I’m sorry.” Todd was hugging him and rubbing his back.

“Don’t be, you’re going to be okay, everything’s okay.”


	3. Insomnia

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Dirk is clearly in for a night full of insomnia, Todd tries to help but he’s exhausted. He does happen to wake up to breakfast being prepared for him though… just not by who he wants.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

>  **Characters** : Todd Brotzman. Dirk Gently. Osmund Priest.  
>  **Warnings** : Angst. Blood. Abuse. Home Invasion. Todd’s POV

Todd knew it was going to be a rough night when Dirk wore clothes to bed, laying over the blankets with his shoes hanging off over the edge. He looked happy and content though as he folded his hands on his stomach and closed his eyes. Body wiggling like he was trying to get comfortable, Todd watched him while taking off his own clothes. A frown present on his face as he gave a heavy sigh and moved over to him. Sitting on the ground by his feet and gently working on taking his shoes off.

“Why this isn’t the service I requested. But you have always been one to assist without question.” He rolled his eyes from the comment while giving a heavy sigh. Just taking off the man’s shoes as Dirk eventually sat up to watch him. He glanced up and could see that sad patient smile, like the man wanted to object but for once wasn’t going to voice it. It was a miracle honestly.

But, also, heartbreaking.

“Is everything okay?” He asked while getting up after tossing Dirk’s shoes to the side, hands resting on the man’s legs when he nodded. The silence made him know it was a lie, and he could tell Dirk was catching on to it.

“Everything is fine, Todd.”  _Bullshit_. “We solved the case, we did the thing, we’re home now and you’re taking care of me. And such great service might I add.” He was scooting closer to the edge of the bed and Todd sighed when Dirk wrapped his arms around his shoulders and smiled innocently down at him. A smile he could buy if his eyes didn’t look so sad right now. He moved to rest his hands on Dirk’s hips, leaning up and kissing him gently before pulling back.

“You’re full of shit.” He stated bluntly getting a laugh from the man above him who slowly just leaned back to lay down on the bed.

“I’m not tired.” Todd was, he was exhausted, he felt like they had been working so hard on that case, they were dragged around from place to place. Chasing an object that felt just out of reach, and then things went from maybe good to worst when he showed up. He could remember his voice in Bergsberg, what Dirk said about him in Wendimoor after their near escape, the stories he randomly got out of him during his lover’s panic attacks. But to actually see him. To put a face to the name of a man with a scar that bisected his face. A smile colder than the arctic, and eyes to match.

He realized to the full extent why Dirk was so afraid of him.

Standing there, covered in blood with a giggle that made his hair stand on end and a chill run down his spine. The words of him telling them they were lucky they weren’t who he was there for. But he just casually pulled out that ear piece and dropped it in a pile of blood as he announced he wouldn’t mind playing with them anyway. If it weren’t for Farah he didn’t know, or even want to know what the man was going to do to them. Even as Dirk fell in a state of panic that made him near catatonic and he needed Farah’s help getting them out of there after the woman got Priest out of the way.

He slowly took in a deep breath and got on the bed with him, laying down next to Dirk and staring at the ceiling. Wanting to help but not being sure how to do so.

“He can’t get you here, Dirk. I won’t let that happen.” He turned to look at the man whose lip was trembling, chin quivering, watching as he moved his hands to cover his face and turned his back to him. Curling up and just crying, he felt helpless as he watched Dirk sob, hand moving to touch his back. To let him know he was there as he scooted closer and curled up with him.

“You-you cannot promise-” sniffling rather pathetically, “promise that.” He just moved to hold him, cuddling the man close till Dirk finally turned to face him, burying his face into his chest as he sobbed in his arms. “He will kill you-”

“He didn’t kill Farah in Bergsberg… he didn’t kill me today…” And he very well could have, he was armed to the teeth and all when they found him. Bart not far behind the man.

“I don’t want to talk about him. Please?” He nodded from that, just holding Dirk, hoping the man would fall asleep.

“I’m here whenever you need to talk about stuff.” He couldn’t do anything to help, but he could try at least. He could do everything in his power to attempt to make Dirk feel better, it was a while of lying there before the exhaustion kicked him. His head hurting from trying to stay awake from the other man. Floating off into dreams of silly things that made no sense only for that to be interrupted when he felt movement on the bed. He groaned as he finally opened his eyes, seeing he was alone in the bed he slowly lifted his head to try to see where the man was.

The grogginess began to fade and Todd swore he could hear the sound of humming, and smell food cooking. Which was odd, Dirk wasn’t the best cook, he tried, sure, but that wasn’t always a good thing either. He arched a brow and looked to the door, feeling like something was off, he could feel a sense of dread as the humming turned into whistling. His sleep altered mind coming to the realization that definitely wasn’t Dirk who was doing that… then who?

He couldn’t help but notice how dark it was outside, curious how long he had slept and how long Dirk was awake. He felt frozen when he could hear the creak of their bedroom door. As the light from the other room slowly began to fill it, starting in a small crack and slowly filling the room. Todd was already getting up, moving to stand ready to fight the intruder, while arming himself with a shoe he had taken off Dirk. He could hear the familiar giggle as the tall figure stood looking like a menacing shadow from the contrast of the bright light behind him.

“And what do ya think you’re gonna do with that, Darlin?” Head tilting in a way that felt wrong as his eyes slowly focused on the split vicious smile on Priest’s face. “Now go an put that down, and come join us. Svlad’s just dying to see you.” He could feel a chill rush up his spine as he watched the man side step, staring outside to see Dirk sitting in a chair looking badly beaten. He didn’t even acknowledge Priest as he ran over to him, checking to see if he was okay before the man behind him giggled. He turned quickly to stand protectively between him and Dirk as Priest just grinned like a devil.

“Y’all are goin’ to have a lot of fun this mornin.” He purred the words as he felt sickeningly nauseated from the smell of eggs and bacon coming from the kitchen. “Sit down.” He could feel his heart in his throat from how his voice went from playful and cheery to harsh and stern in the manner of seconds. He could feel Dirk clutching at his hand and hear the soft plea for him to listen.

He wondered how things would have been if he suffered the same insomnia that Dirk did…


	4. No, stop!

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Dirk hates himself for getting Todd involved in Blackwing.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

>  **Characters** : Dirk Gently. Todd Brotzman. Osmund Priest.  
>  **Warnings** : Angst. Isolation. Abuse. Torture. Gun Violence. Dirk’s POV.  
>  **Note** : Takes place sometime after the Day 3 prompt. Lmao.

It was dark, and cold.

Dirk was curled up holding himself as he listened to the light dripping of… well he wasn’t sure what, off to the side. It was annoying, it was disorienting, just like the dark was. He was positive he kept seeing movements in the darkness as he hugged himself into his corner of the room. Scared, and frightened, and alone. He hated this, he hated the dark so much. He just wanted to cry but he didn’t feel like he had any tears left. He perked up when he heard the door, when he saw the light shine into the room, quickly getting up and scurrying over to the bed. Laying on it so he wouldn’t get in trouble as he heard shuffling of feet. He closed his eyes tight, just waiting for whatever was going to happen to happen.

“Get up.” He rolled over on his side instead, curling up in a ball on the bed and crying from Mr. Priest’s voice of all things. He didn’t want to, but he knew not listening was worse, he was just scared… He covered his mouth, giving loud uneven breaths as he listened to the man’s boots across the floor. Head shaking and eyes wide as tears cascaded out of them. He wanted Todd, he wanted Farah, he just wanted his friends. Someone, anyone that could help him.

He yelped when he felt a strong unforgiving hand on his bicep, squeezing so hard Dirk thought it might break for a second. He wasn’t any nicer about pulling him up off the bed, Dirk yelped as he stumbled into the man, hand resting on him to stable himself as Priest just giggled. Cruel, and menacing, and evil. He couldn’t stop crying as he moved to try and get away from him only for Priest to give him a hard yank as he guided him towards the door.

“Now, boy. I know its done been sixteen years since we’ve done this little routine. But when I give you an order. I expect you to,” waiting for him to answer, for him to be a good boy. He felt like he was a mess as he stumbled alongside him. Not feeling like his legs were working properly as he tried desperately to keep up with the taller man. His silence was rewarded by Priest slamming him rather hard into the wall. He felt winded as he blinked desperately trying to get his eyes to adjust to the new bright light. It was blinding, and painful, and he could hardly see, just squinting out at him while giving a shaky breath.

“To-to follow it… Mr. Priest. I-I-I… I need… to-to follow it-” He flinched when the man leaned in, crying harder as his lip and chin quivered as he felt his hand run along the side of his face. Like a lover’s caress, but it felt threatening and wrong, making his skin crawl and hair stand on end. He moved his hands to the man’s chest, trying to push him back but it was like pushing against a solid wall. The only thing he did was press it more into the concrete behind him.

He wanted to go  _home_.

“We’re goin’ to do somethin’ special today, Darlin.” He slowly looked to his face. Eyes lingering on the scar that was about as terrifying as the man who owned it. He swallowed back the tears as the man began walking again, dragging him along with him. “I think you’ll like this test. After all… ain’t got nothin to do with you.”  _Then why was he being forced to come?_  He wanted to ask, but instead he just wiped his tears off his face and hung his head low as they walked side by side. Eventually stopping in front of one of the testing rooms where it opened up for them when Priest scanned his access card. He winced when he was thrown in the room. Falling hard enough on his already bruised knees he cried out in pain, leaning forwards to press his head into the ground as he whimpered and moved to get his legs out from under him.

“Dirk!” He looked up from the voice, eyes wide and a smile pulling across his face. He could feel Todd touching him, he moved and hugged him. Clinging on to the man as he buried his face into the crook of his neck, hands clutching at the jumpsuit the other man was wearing. Just crying in both joy, and sorrow, because this was his fault, he was here because of him. If he never met him… if he never forced his way into his life Todd wouldn’t be suffering because of him.

“I’m sorry.” He cried. “I’m-I’m sorry-” He winced when he felt a hand in his hair, crying out in pain when he was rather painfully pulled out of his boyfriend’s hands.

“Let go of him!” He winced when he heard Priest kick the man, listening to his giggle as he was thrown to the ground where he landed on his hands and knees. Clutching at it as he glanced over to Priest and Todd, eyes wide as he watched Priest start beating him. That giggle getting louder with each hit to the point he was practically laughing now. He forced himself to his feet, fear shoved to the side and replaced with adrenaline as he ran over and jumped on Priest’s arm. His own arms wrapping around it as he pressed his forehead into his shoulder.

“Stop. Please. Stop. Please. I’ll be good, please?” He was crying as he listened to that giggle come out, holding on to the man tighter in fear when he once more pet the side of his face. Felt like a dog getting rewarded. Like a pet. Like a thing. He couldn’t stop from choking on a sob as he slowly looked up to the man.

“Seems your boyfriend here is getting better about controlling his attacks… So, we wanted to see what happens when we add a new type of stress to the situation.” Dirk understood, he was crying as he let go of his arm and slid to the floor. Hands clutching at Priest’s pant leg as the man stood over the both of them, he could hear Todd groan and move and he didn’t know what to do. He hated this, he hated Blackwing. He just wanted to go home. The man above him just started laughing again, so pleased with this situation, Dirk felt sick when he was grabbed and thrown to the floor again. Hitting the ground hard with a pained whine as he watched Priest step over to him. His stride slow and patient, like he was enjoying this.

Like he wanted to savor this.

He could see the man pulling something off his belt, watching the way he moved. Eyes closing as he heard a gun cock. He kept telling himself Priest wouldn’t kill him, he couldn’t Blackwing wouldn’t allow it. But he knew this was going to hurt… He took in a deep breath and held it. Not even wanting to look at Todd as he laid there accepting his fate. He winced when he felt the man step on his stomach, pushing down on it he opened his eyes while clutching at his ankle. Staring up at the man as he aimed the gun at his leg.

“No! Stop!” He could hear Todd moving, trying to get to them as Priest just grinned down at him like the devil he was before pulling the trigger. Dirk couldn’t tell who was screaming louder.

Himself, or Todd.


	5. Betrayed

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Dirk just wants Scott to protect him.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

>  **Characters** : Young!Dirk. Scott Riggins. Osmund Priest.  
>  **Warnings** : Murder Mention. Child Abuse Mention. Blood. Betrayal. Angst. Dirk’s POV  
>  **Note** : BIG SURPRISE HERE ON WHAT HAPPENS LMAO  
> Also it would normally be Poisoned Day 5 I wrote that Prompt for a different fandom so jumping to Day 6

It’s subtle but it’s there. Maybe it’s always been there and Dirk was too hopeful or stupid to notice. He was starting too though, he was picking up on the man’s lie every time he was told one.

_This isn’t going to hurt._

_You’re going to be fine_.

_I’m here for you_.

_I’m_   _proud_   _of_   _you_.

_He_   _won’t_   _hurt_   _you_   _anymore_.

Out of all of the lies, he felt like the last one was the worst one. He could take disappointing Scott, honestly by now he was used to it. He still hated it, but not as much as he did in the beginning. He could take the pain from the tests. Also, not something he liked or enjoyed, but something that was manageable. Something he could cry himself to sleep about later, if his mind would even allow him to sleep. Something he could mentally prepare for. Expect the worst pain he had endured so far, and he was either wrong in ways it’s like a tickle, wrong in ways it becomes the next pain to imagine. Or for once he’s correct and he knows exactly how bad it’s going to hurt him.

But being told Priest couldn’t hurt him… being lied to as he seeked out safety, as he called out for help. That was the worst betrayal Scott has ever done. Given him promises only to stand and hide in the shadows as he suffered horrible pains. He closed his eyes now, trying to hide behind the man who lied to him on the daily. Clinging on to Scott who was the only barrier between him and Priest.

Wiping away his tears from the emotional pain he was in from being dragged back home by the man. His mind was still playing the screams of the family he killed. Still lost in the horror of what all he was witness to as Priest shot through people like they were nothing. Both of them covered in his victim’s blood by the time they got home. The second the door was open he ran to Scott. He cried and he wailed and he begged the man to forgive him. Only for it to be interrupted by Priest’s giggle, one he used to like in the past, but now just left him in a cold sweat.

“Maybe keep a better eye on Icarus this time? How many chances you gonna go an’ give it ta escape?” He hid further behind Scott, crying and shaking, and hating himself for not just running. Hating himself for letting another family get slaughtered by the mad man who stood in front of Scott.

“Osmund.” He looked up at the man who said the man’s name, still shaking as he waited for Scott to do something. To yell at the man, to punish him. Something, something that would make Priest stop. “Take Svlad to decontamination.” He could feel his heart drop, he could feel a cold clutching pain in his chest and his stomach as he shook his head and fell on his knees. Crying, and sobbing, and begging.

Promising him he wouldn’t escape anymore. Promising the man he would be good till his throat was raw with his screams and heartbreak. Only for him to be helplessly pulled away from the man as Priest grabbed him roughly by the arm and dragged him behind him. He still tried to cling to the older man. Still wanted to be saved despite knowing he wasn’t going to.

“I’m sorry!” Priest was just giggling over his pain as he was dragged to decontamination. As he was thrown pitifully to the floor as Priest just left him in the hands of the cleaners who told him where to stand. Who barked orders at him and forced him to comply when he wasn’t moving fast enough for them.


	6. Kidnapped

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Dirk meets a new type of nightmare.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

>  **Characters** : Dirk Gently. Todd Brotzman. Pete Cook (I HAVE BEEN IN A PETE MOOD I’M SORRY). Osmund Priest (small appearance)  
>  **Warnings** : Trapped. Panic Attack. Pararibulitus Attack. Disassociating. Dirk’s POV

“That is a nice tie you have.” His voice made Dirk shake and he wasn’t sure why, eyes locked on the stranger who stood in the doorway so tall he was worried he might not actually fit through it. He could feel his breath catching in his throat as he watched the man stand there with his hands on his hips. Smile on his face, wearing a bright yellow suit with a fuchsia pink shirt. He definitely stood out in the dark dreary place he found them in. Dirk was still kneeling in front of Todd who was still stuck under some of the rubble that fell on his leg. He had been working on calming him down so he wouldn’t have an attack. He wished Farah was here... 

He couldn’t keep his eyes off the man who gave a bored sigh from the lack of response.

Watching as he began walking further into the room, and it was almost like there was a black cloud following behind him. Like even with his bright outfit choice he was able to steal all the warmth and brightness out of the room. He felt nothing from him... just hollow, empty, nothingness. It was wrong, everything about him read like he was wrong, like he shouldn’t be here. And not just as, shouldn’t be here in this room, but shouldn’t be in this universe entirely. He couldn’t help but wonder if that was a thing? If that was ever a possibility with anyone as the man continued to approach.

And Dirk just sat there like a dear in head lights.

“Who... who are you?” Leave it to Todd to snap him out of his thoughts. He quickly moved his hands to squeeze Todd’s to reassure him even though he didn’t trust this man as he turned to look at him. Getting up to give him his full attention.

“Yes, my AssisFriend brings up a great question, sir, what is your name? My names Dirk, Dirk Gently, Holistic Detective.” The man just smiled, top lip and mustache looking like it was twitching as he let out a laugh and looked to the side. Getting closer, Dirk could feel his heart in his throat he didn’t notice him getting so close... He didn't like it, he didn’t like how the man could be so mesmerizing as he walked so silently through the rubble under his feet.  

“Oh, I know exactly who you are.” He watched the man reach inside of his suit, and Dirk held his breath when his eyes locked on the gun that was in view from the movement. Fearful he was going to shoot him, only for the man to pull out a little black notebook and open it. If he didn’t know any better, he would say this action was why the lights in the room were flickering, feeding off his dark empty aura like it was a buffet. “Project Icarus.” He stepped back, tripping over rubble as he landed on his ass and stared up at the man with wide horror filled eyes. “Svlad Cjelli.” He said his dead name slow.

“But since you prefer Dirk, and changed your name and all... I’ll stick with that.” Dirk could feel his heart in his chest as he watched the man lift his foot so effortlessly and press it down on the beam laying over Todd’s leg. He felt frozen in horror when Todd began to scream. He quickly jumped up. Running over to Todd and kneeling next to him, holding him.  

“Todd.” Trying to get his attention as tears welled up in his eyes from the utter helplessness he felt from this situation. “Todd!” He knew the mystery man wasn’t helping, but he didn’t know what to do. He looked a lot stronger than him. “You’re okay I’m here!” Trying to reassure him while wedging himself under Todd, holding his head to his chest as he rocked with him helplessly. Tears just streaming down his face as he finally moved one hand to bat at the mystery man’s foot. “Stop it! Leave him alone! Please!?”

“I’ll not only stop, but I’ll help him. Get this off of him, take him to the hospital. But you have to do one thing for me.”

“I’m not going back.” He said it in a broken tone, looking up at the man who smiled like a devil. And he couldn’t help but wonder where Blackwing found these people. If they put up craigslist adds of ‘need heartless failed comic book villains to work for shady underground government facility.’ He would have laughed at this thought normally is one such person wasn’t crushing his boyfriend’s leg, sending him into an attack, and obviously here to take him ‘home.’

“Oh, Dirk, you’re either coming back to Blackwing with me and he’s going to a hospital, or you’re both coming to Blackwing. After all, his sister is so interesting, you know, the Rowdy 3 can actually feed off her? Mainly when she’s having attacks like this mind you.” The way he spoke of it is like they had Amanda- “Bettin he’s the same way. But.” Dirk watched as he stood up and looked back to his note book, pulling out a pen and scribbling something down in it. “I’m a man of my word. So, what’s it going to be, Mr. Gently? You have.” He watched as he moved to look at the watch on his wrist. “You have fi-”

“I’ll go with you if you take him to the hospital.” He felt like he sold his soul to the devil when the man just looked at him with a smile. It looked so genuine it made a shiver crawl up his spine as the man stepped off the rubble and used his thumb and index finger to whistle. He watched the man as he went back to writing in his note book. His heart was in his throat when Blackwing agents came in and grabbed him. Dragging him away from Todd. He started to kick, and scream, and flail. Trying to get out of their grasps as he reached out for Todd.

“Wait! Todd!” He grunted when he was stopped and forced on his knees. Being shoved down by a hand on each shoulder as his arms were held out. He looked up when he saw the man in the yellow suit standing in front of him. His heart was in his throat when he felt a hand grab his hair and cruelly pull his head back. 

“You know, from this heartbreaking display... I feel it’s only kind if we bring him with you.” Dirk could feel tears pouring from his eyes from that. Watching as the agents in the room removed the rubble off Todd who seemed to have passed out from the pain he was in. “Maybe I can talk Ken into letting you share a room for a bit.”

“Oh, that’ll be fun.” He felt like he was being stabbed through the heart with an icicle from the voice that was followed by a familiar giggle. “Can enjoy watchin’ both their reactions when I take one away from the other for tests.” Mr. Priest. He felt like he had been transported into the last ring of hell. Everything was so cold and made him feel frozen in place.

“You got Miss Black, Mr. Priest?” He could feel the man letting go of his hair as he listened to him walk away.

“You really have ta go an ask, Pete?” This was actual hell.


	7. Fever

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Svlad finds himself getting annoyed with Priest’s selfcare when it ends in the man getting sick from infection.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

>  **Characters** : Agent Svlad Cjelli. Osmund Priest.  
>  **Warnings** : Angst. Panic Attack. Facing ones Fears to get Help. Svlad’s POV.

“I’ll be fine.”

He always said that when he took care of an injury. Svlad worried anyway, he especially worried when the man didn’t wake up at his normal time. When he woke up to him still being in bed instead of Priest waking him up and telling him to get ready while the man was already dressed. Svlad could feel that pang of worry in his chest as he moved his hand to gently touch the man. Getting an annoyed groan in response but he wasn’t doing anything other than that. His skin was burning to the touch, felt wet with sweat, he frowned from that. Feeling him shiver and pull the blanket tighter despite feeling like a furnace.

“Mr. Priest…” He sat up in bed, moving to put a hand on the man’s forehead. Only for the man to smack it away from him. He felt even more worried, he was obviously burning up, it could be an infection and Priest was probably ignoring it. He felt a slight panic not knowing what to do, Priest never actually listened to him about needing medical help. He ignored him or shrugged it off, he knew the man would be mad if he went behind his back and got him help anyway.

But that would require him to talk to the medical staff.

The very thought already put him in a cold sweat as he sat there looking at the man who had gone back to sleep. He slowly slipped out of the bed, hands shaking as he quickly got dressed. Not even caring if he still smelled like sex to anyone at this point. Priest needed help or he might possibly die. He took in a deep breath trying to calm himself down, he walked over to the door, giving Priest one last glance over his shoulder before he slipped out of it.

He walked down the halls, feeling that anxiety clawing at his insides like a ravenous monster as he got closer to medical. The smell of everything being sterile with that hint of blood making him shiver. He could feel the tears in his eyes already as he forced himself to walk. Legs feeling weak and shaky as he got closer to the place that brought him nothing but pain. Even as an Agent they still did experiments on him that made him break down or fall into a catatonic like state.

His hands were shaking as he scanned his access card and walked in. Could see Doctor Bahr sitting at an empty exam table. Her cold steel blue eyes lifting to land on him, she slowly looked back to her clip board, reading over things and jotting notes down. Ignoring him as he tried to work up the courage to tell her Priest needed help. His throat felt dry and scratchy as he stood in the doorway, trying to be strong for the stubborn man so he didn’t die from a stupid infection.

“You’re not on my schedule, Icarus.” Her voice was as cold as her eyes was. He flinched from it while hugging himself.

“Not-not here for me.” She set down the clipboard now and stood up. Looking annoyed while she crossed her arms over her chest and waited expectantly to hear what he wanted. He took in a shaky breath while moving closer to her. “Mr. Priest… he… he took care of a stab wound the other night, and now he has a really bad fever… he… he needs help-”

“That’s a surprise.” She was rolling her eyes, and Svlad dropped his to the floor.

“Please-” He flinched when she walked over to him. Watching as she motioned in the room and other agents moved to follow her. She was already grabbing one of the medical tables and taking the breaks off as they headed out of the medical wing. Svlad just stayed there on shaky legs, eventually collapsing to the floor. Feeling both relieved and terrified of the outcome of this. Wondering how much he was going to try and fight them taking him, or if Doctor Bahr was just going to knock him out the second they got there so they didn’t have to worry about it.

He ran his hands through his hair as his vision became obscured by tears. He just didn’t want to lose him.


	8. Stranded

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Dirk hates this case.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

>  **Characters** : Dirk Gently  
>  **Warnings** : Stranded. Isolation. Broken Bones. Angst. Horror themes. Dirk’s POV

It wasn’t unusual for something to happen and for Dirk to end up alone in a strange place he had never been before. But this incident took the cake as he bundled his clothes around him as tight as he could. Using the scarf he wore as an attempted shield for his face, arm up to try and block the wind as he walked through the snow that went all the way up to his thighs. It was hard, it was exhausting, he felt like he was dragging as he continued to trudge through it. He was shivering, and he was cold, to the point his skin was so dry it was actually cracking. He couldn’t stop though, he knew if he stopped he would die.

But he had to be close to his destination… at least he really hoped he was. He closed his eyes as he fought against the snow and wind, getting out of breath as his chest and lungs felt tight almost like they were freezing. The scarf not feeling like a good enough buffer between him and the frigid air. He opened his eyes with determination as he continued his journey.

One that felt lonely.

A feeling he wished he suddenly had again when he could hear howls not that far from him. He stopped immediately and stared off in the direction they came from. Feeling a sudden pull towards it. Like the universe was literally throwing him to the wolves right now… he guessed it wouldn’t put him in danger… hopefully. He couldn’t really do anything if he got eaten by wolves though. He looked towards where he was heading originally then back to where the howl came from.

Sniffling back snot which was freezing to his scarf he grunted and changed directions.

“I wish… this… Job… could… be… easier…” He grunted while continuing his journey, suddenly feeling acutely aware of the shadows moving around in the storm. “Find the yo-yo! I thought… it would… be simple… but here… I am… stranded! Mind… you…. In a snow… stor-AH!” He caught himself on the snow as what was below him fell out underneath. He clung to it and stared out at the view seeing the wolves now circling him. He closed his eyes when he felt the soft snow under his arms keeping him from falling into god knows where shift.

“Please…” Sinking down more. “I’m not… ready to die…” He honestly stopped wanting to die when he met Todd… he gasped when the snow lost it’s form, when he fell down into the depths, hitting an ice wall that took him tumbling down. He was thrown around like a rag doll before he finally hit the bottom. Hitting it so hard he had the wind knocked out of him so hard that he lost consciousness.

Oh, but he was screaming when he woke up. A sharp shooting pain in his leg had him screaming and wailing as he rolled over on his back and grabbed his calf. Only making that pain worse in terrible ways as he rolled over on his side. Shivering and whimpering from the obviously broken leg he had.

“No-no…. no-no-no-no please-” He frozen when he heard movement. Eyes filling with tears as he looked ahead and saw a small little light up yo-yo laying in front of him. He eyed it through the tears as he slowly turned his head to see what caused the movement, but it was hard to see. The cavern he fell in so dark he couldn’t see his own hand in front of his face. The only light source being the stupid yo-yo. But he could hear the movement again, and he was terrified to move or make noise despite how much pain he was in.

Holding his breath as his eyes followed the sound of movement. Realizing it was heading to the flashing green and yellow lights, all he could see in the soft glow of it was a misshapen hand reaching out of the darkness. Fingers gnarled and boney as they wrapped around the only light source like a boa constrictor. He closed his eyes as one hand moved to cover his mouth, to try and stop the whimper that wanted to come out.

He wanted Todd.


	9. Bruises

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The boy’s try to be there for one another, but it’s rudely interrupted.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

>  **Characters** : Todd Brotzman. Dirk Gently. Osmund Priest.  
>  **Warnings** : Abuse. Held Hostage in Blackwing. Angst. Violence. Pararibulitus Attack. Todd’s POV.  
>  **Note** : takes place after the Kidnapped Prompt

“I’m fine.” Todd watched the way the man gave him a patient smile with his lie. He could feel his heart breaking from it because he knew Dirk wasn’t fine. Neither of them were fine, he moved to hug him, pulling back from when Dirk winced.

“Sorry-”

“No! It’s fine!” He blinked when Dirk hugged him, moving to actually lay on him in the small uncomfortable bed they were sharing. Pete was true to his word of talking Ken into letting them share a room. Todd was thankful for it, but it was hard when every morning one, or both, of them were dragged off and away from one another for tests. Todd was sure he was one big bruise by now thanks to Osmund Priest, who had too much fun forcing him into attacks. Knew he was disappointed on days he didn’t get to hurt him and they just came.

“What did he do to you?” Todd asked softly as the man in his arms just started to cry from the question. Listening to him sob and feeling helpless on how to help him. He snuggled him closer, burying his face in his hair as he held him. He just wanted to keep him safe but it was hard when they were both prisoners. “We’ll get out of this… we’ll find Farah, and we’ll escape. I promise.” Dirk just started to cry harder clinging on to him heavily in ways that hurt from pressing into bruises. But he didn’t want to let go, he didn’t want to lose him.

“This is all my fault.” Dirk croaked out between heavy sobs and even heavier tears. Todd shook his head. Hands moving to cup Dirk’s face as he lifted his head to look in his tired eyes. Thumbs gently wiping the tears away from him as he gave a weak smile.

“This isn’t your fault Dirk. You didn’t know they would-”

“I should! I should know! This is what I’m supposed to do, I’m supposed to be psychic! I’m sorry!” Sounded so frustrated with himself. They both moved to cling to one another when they heard the door open. Todd could feel his heart in his throat from Osmund just standing in the door way, smiling at them with dead eyes. He took in a shaky breath as he moved so he was protectively between the man and Dirk who just clung on to his jumper for dear life.

“Brotzman. Get up.” He didn’t want to, he wanted to be there for Dirk. And Priest must have known that when he walked in the room. He could feel Dirk holding on to him tighter as the man approached the bed and grabbed the cast on Todd’s leg. He gave a heavy groan in pain. Other foot kicking at him as Priest ruthlessly yanked him off the bed and threw him to the floor. “Get up.” Dirk was already at his side. Holding him, apologizing, saying ‘I love you’.

Todd came to the conclusion he made sure to say it every time. Because they both knew one of these days they wouldn’t be brought into the same room. Priest kicked Dirk off of him, and grabbed him by the arm. Fingers digging into bruises as Priest dragged him up to his feet, giggling like this was entertaining as he was dragged out of the room. His anxiety rising as he moved to try to get away so he could go back to Dirk.

The hand on his arm starting to feel like it was burning. And he closed his eyes, trying to breath. Trying to calm down as he felt like his nerves were on fire. He wanted to avoid this, but he knew he couldn’t. Not as the scream tore from his throat and the only thing keeping him standing was Priest. That was until the man dropped him with an annoyed sigh. Like Todd did something wrong as he fell to his side and clung on to the arm that felt and looked like it was melting off. His anxiety spiking when he could hear Priest hurting Dirk from the man trying to get to him. Could just hear Priest beating the shit out of his boyfriend, while there was absolutely nothing he could do about it.


	10. Hypothermia

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> During an intense chase, Todd points out a shortcut, that he very soon regrets.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

>  **Characters** : Todd Brotzman. Dirk Gently. Farah Black.  
>  **Warning** : Pararibulitus Attack. Panic Attack. Drowning. Angst. Todd’s POV

“Dirk, Farah, this way!” Todd called out, his lungs and chest were burning from the chase. He couldn’t quite remember anymore who was chasing who. It felt like this unnecessarily long back and forth thing, and it was days like this he really wished he worked harder on cardio. Maybe he would start doing that, tell Dirk they should be one of those annoying couples who goes on runs together to better train for this bullshit. Then again… Dirk seemed to have been fantastic at cardio. Always made him curious about how much he actually ran… and sad to–

Right. We’re being chased. Focus.

The shortcut Todd decided to take was through a hole in a fence and down a rather slippery hill towards the river that had rocks there to cross. It seemed like the best place to get away, just cross the river, get into the woods on the other side. Make a plan there.

“Oh, this is adventurous, nice going, Todd.” Three consecutive pats on the shoulder and Todd couldn’t stop his smile as they rushed towards safety. Or towards what they thought was safety… what he thought was safety.

It all happened fast, could hear a voice calling from the fence they snuck through. They three of them holding on to one another for balance as they maneuvered the rather slippery and wobbly rocks to get to the other side. And then Todd saw it, a figure in the woods staring back at them. He took one wrong step in distraction and the next thing he knew the only thing holding him was the roaring current with Farah and Dirk calling after him.

It was weird, to go from having trouble breathing from exercise to not being able to breath because he kept getting pulled under water. Every time he did manage to fight to the surface and hear Farah and Dirk who were running beside him on land trying to find a place to meet him, he was violently dragged back under. Sensations started to change as he was pulled down and thrown particularly hard into a rock by the harsh current.

Getting cut and scratched up by drift wood, and unnecessarily sharp fallen logs. His heart rate was rising with his panic, and from the water suddenly feeling freezing against his skin he knew he was heading for an attack. He tried to fight the current, tried hard to get above the water. With little bright flashes of color every time he managed to get above it. He was shivering, he was freezing, his limbs starting to curl and become useless as his body tried desperate to conserve heat from his nerves telling his brain there was none. That he was frozen, that he was going to die. He was hypothermic despite the fact he probably wasn’t.

And he was scared, and in pain.

And he didn’t want to die this way.


	11. Electrocution

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Amanda and the Rowdy 3 once more try to rescue Dirk from Priest.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

>  **Characters** : Dirk Gently. Rowdy 3. Amanda. Beast. Osmund Priest.  
>  **Warning** : Gun Wound Mention. Blood Mention. Abuse Mention. Brainwashing. Electrocution. Dirk’s POV  
>  **Note** : You’re Mine Verse

It was weird, everything about it was weird, how he and Priest were just minding their own business. And then they appeared out of nowhere. He could hear uneven breathing from one of the Rowdies, could smell the blood from when Priest had managed to shoot Beast. From the rushing around and soft whimpers and pleas he wasn’t sure how well she was doing. He felt… different… he felt angry… he felt upset. He couldn’t stop crying and pulling away from Amanda who kept being annoying and insistent on trying to see if he was okay. But she wouldn’t listen…

“Dirk, you’re going to be fine.” He wasn’t. She ruined it. She ruined everything.

“My names Svald.” He stated it with all the anger and bitterness in his chest as he pulled away from her. He could feel her hands hovering over his back, but doing nothing to touch him. He could hear her sniffling as he moved his hands to touch the device stuck in his leg. Running his fingers over it as they went back to taking care of Beast.

It was night time by the time they stopped. By the time he was pulled out of the van and looked over. He tried to pull away as they promised they weren’t going to hurt him. As they were helping him get out of bloody clothes with another set waiting for him. He could hear the gasp and cry as Amand had to look away when they saw his back. He felt empty about it now, about the scars, knew the reaction would be worse when they got to his thighs.

He was thankful for the shirt given to him and pulled it on, staring off into nothingness as they were gentle about asking him to take off his pants. He spared Amanda one glance already seeing her crying off to the side, hitting the back of the van in anger and outrage. He moved his hands to his belt, Martin and the rest of the Rowdies turning their heads to give him privacy. Or some privacy, Martin was still looking as he slowly let his pants slide down his legs.

Showing off the bloody bandages on his thighs from Priest’s latest addition to his tally. He slowly stepped out of them and Martin was gentle as he took his hand and guided him to side. Svlad moved his hand to play with the device in his leg, finger trailing around it as Amanda moved closer with a medkit. He kept his eyes staring out at nothing as Martin unwrapped the bandages, feeling numb when they finally were removed. He could hear the medkit clatter on the ground. Hear Amanda’s cry in pain from the names carved into his thighs with deep, vicious, gouges cutting through them to cross them out.

He could see Martin holding her, he could hear them talk in what felt like white noise. His attention shifting to Vogel who was pointing at his leg, at the device he kept touching.

“Boss, what’s that?” Asking Amanda instead of him, not that he would answer anyway. He watched as their attention all fell on it. Svlad moved his hand to cover it, to cling in to it as he tried to turn it away.

“Don’t touch it!” He snapped the words at them, a sudden fear burning in his chest as he was met with Martin, and Cross grabbing him. Gripps, holding him trying to still him and promising everything would be okay as Martin kneeled next to his leg. Svlad fought, he pulled and he kicked and he fought to the best of his ability. “Don’t! Please don’t!” He closed his eyes when he felt Martin touch it. Breath catching as he felt the tug.

Feeling all those needles underneath the surface pull, the defense mechanism kicking on the second they felt movement against them. Svlad started to scream, writing in their arms, legs kicking as Martin managed to pull it enough that it was bleeding. He could feel that current rushing through him, pulling away as his muscled convulsed pain sparking and spreading painfully. He kicked Martin who had already let go, getting him right in the face to make him stop as Gripps slowly lowered him to the floor. This was wrong, it shouldn’t hurt this much still. It wasn’t right almost like Priest was-

He clutched at the dirty ground curling up as his jaw clenched, muscles constricting painfully, when he could hear it.

The little giggle in the distance, the way the Rowdies suddenly grabbed what they needed for an attack and told Amanda to stay back. The pain was gone then, he laid there, twitching as he saw Priest finally come into the light from the shadows. Standing there holding the remote to the device in his hand. Svlad was already pushing himself up off the ground. Stumbling forwards on shaky legs, tears in his eyes as he stared at the man only to be caught by Amanda.

“Let… let go…”


	12. Stay

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Dirk is trying to stay hidden from Priest. Who is singing a super creepy song.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

>  **Characters** : Dirk Gently. Osmund Priest. Todd Brotzman.   
> **Warning** : Hunting. Stalking. Priest being a fucking creepy. Gun Violence. Dirk’s POV   
> **Note** : Priest is singing "One Way Or Another" by Until the Ribbon Breaks

“Baby Bird!” He could hear the nickname, he was closing his eyes at the sound of a giggle and something being loaded. From the snap of something shutting followed by the cocking he recognized it easily as a double-barreled shotgun. “Come out, come out where ever you are.” Sung so happily through the halls. Dirk was standing behind a wall, pressing his body against it and covering his mouth and nose, trying to stifle his crying as he heard heavy footsteps through the house. It didn’t take long for the whistling to start, but it was slow, it was eerie, it echoed through the empty house and cause Dirk to slide down the wall in fear to the ground. Hands tightening around his mouth and nose when eventually Priest began that lovely singing of his. In a way he wasn’t expecting and sent a cold chill up his spine.

“One way, or another, I’m gonna find you. I’m gonna get you.” He flinched from the sound of something breaking. “One way, or another, I’m gonna win you, I’m gonna get you, get you.” It was getting closer and Dirk couldn’t stop the tears from flowing, his hands shaking as he could hear him at the end of the hall he was at. “One day, maybe next week, I’m gonna see you, gonna meet you.” Honestly, Dirk never noticed how creepy that song actually was till this very moment in time.

“And I will,” he could hear him outside the door of the closet he was hiding in. “Drive by your house. And if the lights are all down… then I’ll see…” He yelped and flinched at the sound of the shotgun going off, hearing the laughter as the door started to push open. Priest just standing there with a large grin. “Who’s around.” He tried to slip away, falling to the floor and shaking his head.

“No- no, Mr. Priest- please-” He closed his eyes when the man aimed the shotgun at aim. He turned his head to the side holding his hands out as if those could possibly protect his face from the man in front of him shooting him. “Please-”

“I wonder what will happen when I pull this trigger.” He was crying harder while pressing himself back further into the closet till he was on the opposite wall. He didn’t want to look at him, he couldn’t look at him. He kept his head turned and his eyes closed as he listened to the man stepping into the closet. He could feel his shadow towering over him. Could feel his presence like a smothering, evil, creature, hellbent on destroying everything.

“I really want to know, Dirk.” He flinched when he heard the gun go off. He stayed there for a moment wondering if he was dead. But nothing hurt, he could hear laughing and a struggle and he opened his eyes to see Todd on Priest’s back like a monkey that wouldn’t let go. And he looked above him to see the buck shot in the wall above his head. Mr. Priest… was actually going to kill him. He could hear a cry in pain, and his eyes snapped back to the scene to find Todd stuck between the wall and Priest’s back. The man’s bisected face bleeding badly and the man currently digging the handle of the shotgun against Todd’s stomach.

“Boyfriends feisty Dirk.” He was giggling and Dirk couldn’t will himself to move as the man pulled off the wall and slammed back into it. Again.

And again.

And again.

Until Todd let go and he was laying on the floor coughing and writhing in pain. Dirk could hear the man unloading and reloading the shotgun. Could see Todd trying to get up only for Priest to kick him and shove him back down into the floor by stepping on his back. Giggling as he cocked the shotgun, Dirk watched in horror as the man aimed it down at Todd’s head with the biggest grin he had ever seen on the man.  

“Stay.” The word full of so much joy, Dirk didn’t realize he was moving until he threw himself over Todd. Holding him and hugging him. Shielding him from the man’s weapon. Tears pouring in his eyes knowing he either just saved his boyfriend. Or they were both about to die together… 

He really hoped he saved them.


	13. Torture

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Dirk is stuck in a ‘Project Review’ with Pete and Priest looming over his shoulder like an attack dog.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

>  **Characters** : Pete Cook. Osmund Priest. Dirk Gently. Todd Brotzman (mention). Farah Black.  
>  **Warning** : Psychological and Physical abuse. Knife. Dirk’s POV.  
>  **Note** : Takes place after the Kidnapped and Bruises prompt

He wasn’t sure how long he was sitting in the chair, staring at the door across from him and waiting. Priest dragged him in there and forced him to sit down and told him not to move. But the man wasn’t even doing anything to him, just using a knife to pick the dirt out from under his fingernails. And somehow this was worse, just waiting and not knowing what would happen. Todd was taken out of his room a few days ago and never brought back. He worried, he asked about him but no one would answer his questions. He could feel his breath catch when the door opened, Priest didn’t even bother to look, just kept getting the dirt out from under his nails.

Dirk closed his eyes from how cold the room felt, the same feeling of darkness pouring in the small room. It was the same feeling when that man, Pete, had found him and Todd. He slowly opened his eyes to look at him, seeing him in a black suit this time, with a bright yellow shirt and fuchsia tie. He sat down across from him, slowly pulling his glasses off and cleaning them with the use of hot breath and a little white silk cloth. Dirk found his eyes locked on his hands, he could see blood under his finger nails and it was making his heart race.

He wasn’t liking this one bit, the silence aside from the soft noises coming from the knife against Priest’s finger nails.

“You know, Dirk.” That was one thing he liked about Pete, he actually used his preferred name. He looked to the man as he placed his glasses back on his face, “We’re trying to be patient with you.” He looked to the little notebook the man pulled out and set on the table. The sounds coming from Priest stopping, and he could see that large grin in the man’s face as he pressed the tip of his knife against his own thigh, waiting, looking bored. Like at any second he would be able to walk over and hurt him.

“I’m trying. It doesn’t work how you guys want it to work-”

“I don’t think you are trying.” He felt frustrated, tears were building in his eyes as he hugged himself, fingers pressing against bruises on his arm from Priest more or less throwing him around. He took in a pained breath, tears starting to slip from his eyes.

“It doesn’t work how-”

“I have something for you.” He could see Priest perking up, could see the grin on his face which just made Dirk sick to his stomach. He watched as Pete reached in his pocket and pulled out an audio recorder and set it on the table. “But before we get to that… I want to talk to you about something important.” He couldn’t help but be fearful of what this was, honestly Pete only had spoken to him twice in the past, this was their third conversation for however long he had been tapped at Blackwing. “You’ve been asking about Todd a lot.”

“Can I see him?” He asked while staring at the recorder with dread, knowing they were going to make him listen to Todd’s screams of agony. That he would be forced to endure listening to Todd in pain and not being able to do anything about it.

“You have to do something useful for that privilege. I gave you a month with him. I talked my boss into allowing you to have a comfort for a month to see if maybe you’re little… what do you call him?” He was looking at his notebook, there with a after image of a smile on the man’s face before he looked back to him. “Assisfriend.” Amusement. Mockery. He didn’t know which one it was but he was slowly curling his legs up on the chair with him. “Would help you.” Hugging his knees to his chest as he dropped his gaze to the floor, he bit his bottom lip which was trembling.

“Please-”

“I gave you him as a type of luxury for a month expecting results, and you have given us nothing.” He closed his eyes as he listened to the man stand up, he could hear Priest giggling from his spot in the room.

“Givin’ Icarus too much credit, Pete.” The words felt like a slap to the face, he slowly looked over to him when he heard him move, watching as he walked the short distance from where he was at the door over to the table. Sitting on the edge and going back to playing with that knife, he couldn’t keep his eyes off it as Priest pressed the tip against his thigh spinning it boredly, and with enough pressure he wouldn’t be surprised if the man was cutting into his own leg. He looked back to Pete when he felt a hand on his shoulder.

“Am I wasting my kindness on you?” He was shaking his head and crying harder from the question, from the mock comfort of the hand on his shoulder.

“No! No, please, I can do better Pete. I promise, I’ll try harder!” He yelped when the man actually hit him, and he hit him hard. He was on the ground next to his toppled over chair and almost took a few seconds to register it. His face hurt, badly, he wasn’t sure if even Mr. Priest had hit him in the face that hard before. But he could hear Priest giggling about it, and Dirk moved his hands to the ground. Shakily, as he slowly started to push himself back up.

“What’s the truth Dirk. You gonna try harder? Or does it not work this way? I’m getting mixed messages.” Dirk scratched at the ground, hating this, he knew with Scott when he promised he would do better everything would stop. If he told people what they wanted to hear the pain would stop. He couldn’t stop his tears as he stared at the ground. “I’m waiting.” He gave a soft sob while moving his hands to wipe his tears away. “Is he always like this?”

“More-or-less.” He could hear Priest reply and Pete give an annoyed sigh. He yelped when he was grabbed by the arm and pulled up off the ground. Thrown rather harshly into the table. Into Priest who grabbed him and before he could say anything that knife was pressing against his throat right under his jaw. He stood still as Pete stepped over to the table, grabbing the audio recorder, looking it over.

“If you can tell me what’s on this. Then I won’t play it for you.” Dirk looked to it while moving his hands to the hand holding the knife to his throat. Eyes closing when he felt Priest’s free hand on his head, petting his hair before grabbing it and craning his head back while sliding the knife up and down along his jugular vein. “You have ten seconds.” The man stated and Dirk felt completely and utterly frozen from all of this.

“Todd-Todd… it’s Todd, from his last testing session. In pain and screaming.” He slowly opened his eyes to look at Pete who was just smiling at him. He could feel the knife pressing up against his bottom jaw as Priest leaned in. Could feel his breath on his ear causing his skin to break out in goosebumps and his hair to stand on end.

“What else?” Priest asked in a way that sounded so giddy. He closed his eyes and swallowed hard not wanting to hear the tape but he didn’t know, he didn’t know what else.

“I don’t- I don’t know- please-” He couldn’t stop the tears when he heard the recording start. When he could hear Todd obviously trying to fight with someone until he could hear a door open.

_–”Farah! It’s so good to see you-”_ He felt frozen to the core as he could hear Todd’s excitement replaced with a scream. He felt a cold sweat on his forehead as everything faded into white noise in this moment.

“What… did you…” He could feel the knife leaving his throat. He could hear Priest laughing as he fell to the floor at Pete’s feet. Priest casually lifting a foot to rest it on his shoulder and shake him as he heard a door open behind them. He could hear combat boots against the floor, and he was too afraid to turn around and look. But he slowly risked it, he turned his head, eyes full of tears as he saw Farah. Standing there in a Blackwing Uniform standing in a military stance and not even looking at him.

“Mr. Cook. I’m sorry to interrupt but Ken was asking for you.” This was worse than any torture Pete and Priest could have ever done to him. Dirk could see the scars on her face. He could see an almost dead look in her eyes, as Pete stepped around him and started to head towards her.

“Mr. Priest, why don’t you teach Dirk here it’s better to be honest than trying to tell me what he thinks I want to hear.” He could hear Priest laughing but he felt frozen to his spot as Pete and Farah walked out of the room to go to whatever it was that Ken wanted.


	14. Manhandling

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Priest teaches Dirk a lesson about lying.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

>  **Characters** : Dirk Gently. Osmund Priest.   
> **Warning** : Abuse (small fingernail torture scene near the end). Mentions of brainwashing. Dirk’s POV.   
> **Note** : Takes place immediately after the Torture Prompt.

He felt like a ragdoll with how easily Priest could throw him around. He was in so much pain from the man taking his time and beating him till he was choking on his own blood. Tears in his eyes and limbs feeling tired and heavy as he rolled over with a whine. About to get up only to be kicked roughly in the stomach. He could feel himself sliding on the floor as he curled up in a ball from the force of it. Tears in his eyes as he pressed his face into the floor. Crying as he coughed up more blood, but apparently, he didn’t hurt enough.

Apparently the mental and physical pain the man was putting him through was nothing to Priest. He winced when he was grabbed by the front of his jumper and dragged off the floor so easily, the man having not even broken a sweat. He listened to him giggle as he was shoved back down into the chair he had been in when Pete was there to meet him. He closed his eyes, taking in a shaky breath which just brought more pain. Starting to slump over to the side until Priest’s hands moved to his face.

Cupping his jaw and forcing his head up as the man leaned in. He could see the sadistic gleam in his eyes, he could see the way Priest was looking forwards to hurting him. He slowly let out the breath he had taken in. Seeing little flecks of his blood on the man’s face from the action. He wanted to beg him to stop but it was pointless, he knew it was pointless. It was just a waste of breath, and honestly at this point, he felt the man probably got off on people begging.

“You know, I really have ta thank ya for your friend choices. Miss Black really is a great asset to the team.” Dirk could feel tears in his eyes immediately as moved week hands to grab Priest’s wrists.

“What… what did-”

“She’s useful, sweetheart, was a fun one to break. Roscoe and I were making bets on who could break her first.” He closed his eyes as more tears fell from them, he didn’t want to know but he knew Priest was going to tell him anyway. “Pete, uh, he decided it would be more effective for us to break her together.” He was giggling and Dirk couldn’t stop his tears while trying to pull away. Shaking his head out of the man’s hands as he just laughed about this. Like it was funny. He felt sick, he felt wrong. He did this…  

He brought them to this.

“Where you goin, baby?” Playful tone as Dirk managed to slip out of his grip, falling to the floor and trying to crawl away. “You haven’t learned your lesson yet.” He yelped when Priest kicked him, easily knocking him over. Only to be grabbed again and manhandled up and slammed into the wall. Toes not even touching the floor as Priest held him pinned to the wall so he was taller than him. Dirk grabbed his wrists and closed his eyes while shaking his head.

“Stop-”

“What is the lesson you need to learn?” He closed his eyes only to be pulled off the wall and harshly slammed back into it. He could hear a ringing in his ears from how hard his head hit the wall. “What.” Doing it again. “Lesson.” And again. “Am I.” And again. “Teaching.” And again. “You.” He was dropped that time, Dirk crumbled at the man’s feet. Grabbing on to his pant legs as tears cascaded down his face.

“Please-” He kicked him in the face that time. The world went black for a second but he came to being roughly thrown onto the table. Laying there and coughing from the force of it as he stared up at the blinding white light above him. He looked from it towards Priest who was resting his hands on the table, could see one hand moving to pull out that knife.

“Maybe you’ll understand the point of this with a little more pain.” He could feel the man grab his wrist, watching him lift his hand up into view. His mind having a doubling affect for a moment as Priest slowly brought the knife to his finger. Dirk tried to pull away but the man adjusted so he was squeezing his hand. Holding it so tightly to the point Dirk thought he was going to break it. He moved his other hand trying to shove Priest’s off his own. Shaking his head when he felt the tip of the knife press between his fingernail and finger on his index finger.

“No! No! No-no-no-no-no please-” He turned his head when Priest just leaned in.

“You know how to make it stop.” He couldn’t stop his scream from the pain of Priest pressing the knife down, cutting his fingernail away from his finger so easily and just continuing to drive it into him. He was kicking his legs, trying to hard to pull his hand away from him probably making it worse as he felt his own blood drip onto his face.

“I won’t lie! I’ll tell-tell Pete- the-the truth!” He was pulling his hand to his chest, curling up on the table and sobbing heavily into it as his body trembled. He could just hear Priest laughing, could see him in the reflection of the mirror across from him. Watching as the man slowly brought the knife up and licked some of his blood off.

“Good boy.” He felt like he was going to be sick.


	15. Bedridden

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Agent Cjelli meets Blackwing’s Secret Weapon for the first time. It does not go well.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

>  **Characters** : Agent Svlad Cjelli. Osmund Priest. Skylar.  
>  **Warning** : Bugs? Infection. Anxiety. Abandonment. Svlad’s POV

“You look like you’re ready for war.” Svlad mused the words while lying on his stomach watching Priest gear up. The man tried to kick him out of the room a while ago but Svlad refused to leave so the man just grunted while getting ready instead.

“Big mission.”

“How come I’m not invited, I might be useful.” He could see the man pausing while in the middle of buckling his belt. Watching the amused smile crossing his face while he turned to look at him. Finishing what he was doing before crossing is arms over his chest. Svlad couldn’t help but take in the sight of Priest in an actual agent get up. Wearing all black even a Kevlar vest. Holsters and pouches all full for whatever the big mission was.

“I don’t know if it’s a good idea.” Svlad rolled his eyes while getting up. “Workin with a project you haven’t met before.” Which only made him curious in all honesty. He arched a brow at that while watching him.

“Other Projects love me.” He stated confidently Priest just sighed while rubbing his face.

“Abaddon, is a really strong empath which affects her abilities, you’re not so great at controlling your emotions your likely to be a liability.” Ouch. He gave the man an offended look while putting a hand over his heart.

“Excuse you! I am perfectly capable of controlling my emotions.” From the look on the man’s face though he could tell he didn’t believe it. But he got up and started to get dressed anyway while Priest just sighed. He followed the man out the door when he was ready, the two of them heading down the halls only for Priest to stop in front of a door with a project symbol.

“Don’t freak out she hates that.” Was all he stated while scanning his card, Svlad rolled his eyes about to make a comment until the door opened. He could hear the sounds of the locusts, finding himself frozen as Priest stepped into the room, the bugs creating a path as a girl sat on the bed with them all around and over her. He could feel his heart racing from the sight and even stepped back when some of the locusts jumped out at him.

“What-”

“Hey, Sky, you ready to go.” She was getting up, pulling her hood on and Svlad’s eyes locked on her yellow ones. He could see a look of anger in her eyes and before he knew it all those Locusts were swarming him. Spinning around him and landing on him, making him squeak as he stepped back and hit some off of him.

“Svlad!” Priest called like a warning, and he blinked when he realized one of the things actually bit him. He really couldn’t remember much after that. He could remember pain, brutal agonizing pain. The sound of Priest’s voice, so calm in the distance as he left with Skylar only for a team to quickly grab him when he was no longer surrounded by locusts. He was brought to the medical wing immediately, raising his panic as they worked on him, all of them shouting over one another as he felt so hot, and his eyes felt like they were going to explode.

The pain everywhere was so intense. He didn’t know how long he was out when he woke up, laying in a hospital bed, body aching all over and Priest sitting next to him.

“I told you not to freak out.” He groaned, rolling on his side and immediately throwing up on the floor, just earing a sigh from Priest as he could hear Bahr cursing at him for not using one of the puke trays. He really didn’t care in that moment though, everything felt weird, like it was spinning. He could hear movement and looked over to Priest who was getting up. “You’re lucky they have a cure.” Was all he said and Svlad watched as the man started to leave, sitting up and holding a hand out.

“Wa-” he found it hard to talk like his tongue was swollen, just making him realize how much he was struggling to breath. That he had a tube for oxygen in his nose. “Wait-” But the man didn’t he just left him in his sick state, alone in a bed in his least favorite place of the facility. He didn’t even care about the massive amounts of pain he was in. Or the fact that he felt like he was going to throw up any minute. Stuck and bedridden. He just wanted Priest to stay with him and try to make him feel better.


	16. Drugged

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Aodhan never thought his life could get worse. He thought he had already reached the bottom pit of his life when he accidentally killed his parents. But this… nothing could compare to this.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

>  **Characters** : Aodhan Murphey. Osmund Priest.   
> **Warning** : Murder. Abduction. Drugging. Medical Testing. Aodhan’s POV   
> **Note** : Using this as an excuse for Aodhan’s backstory. Suffer with everything I suffer with.   
> There’s a reason he tries to kill Priest on sight.

Aodhan didn’t know what to do as the blonde man sat in front of him. He had heard arguing upstairs and a scream that made him too terrified to move, he just sat there looking at his homework as the man who had been talking to his grandma finally came down stairs and sat across from him. Smile on his face despite the dark cold look in his eyes. He sat there, hands shaking as he knew exactly what happened especially from the smear of blood the man’s gloves left on the table. He had killed her.

He killed  _her_.

He  _killed_ her.  

He could already feel the tears in his eyes as he just sat there. Hands moving to grab the table as the man across the large beautiful oak table, the one that had been in his family for generations, leaned forwards. Elbows resting on it with a type of disrespect that rubbed Aodhan the wrong way, the man was still smiling and Aodhan couldn’t stop his heart from beating as he worked on turning the table into a bomb. Tears still in his eyes as that light spread secretly under the table and down the table legs.

Fueled by his anger, by his pain, by his heartbreak, just spreading and filling and destroying things like this damn ability did with everything in his life.

“Aodhan-”

“Shut up!” He yelled it getting a giggle from the man across the table, mocking him, he swore he was mocking him. “Ye killed her.” It wasn’t a question, he didn’t need to ask a question. It was a statement, he was staring at the blood and could see the man moving his hands off the table when the light of energy broke through the top. The man was staring at it and tilting his head with interest.

“Yes. You know, I have an ability too. You see mine, it ain’t as flashy as yours. But it tells me to do things, even if I don’t really understand why in the moment.” He could feel those angry tears rushing down his face as he stood up the light spreading off the table and into the floor. He was going to destroy this house, he was going to destroy everything. He didn’t care. It didn’t matter anymore. This man took away the only person and thing he ever cared about.

“I don’t give a feck! I don’t want this! You think I want this shite!?”

“I work for a place that can help you, Aodhan-”

“Feck you! I never asked fer this! I never asked fer ya ta come into my life and-” He choked on a sob, he was squeezing the table so hard he swore it was crumbling in his hands under the pressure. Under the heat of the kinetic energy that just kept building and building. “It’s going ta keep spreading.” He still couldn’t be like this man though, he couldn’t kill, not again, never again. He couldn’t.

He couldn’t.

He  _couldn’t_.

“It will take two minutes ta get outta ma feckin’ house. An’ if you touch me at all. I will blow this place ta feckin hell before ya can blink.” His tears falling onto the table which was beginning to bow as the energy spread from the floor to the walls. The man didn’t ask questions, he just giggled while standing up, heading towards the exit.

“I’ll see you again, Aodhan.” He didn’t doubt it. He closed his eyes tight crying harder as the light started to spread up his own arms. He was going to just end it now, there was no point, he didn’t see the point in this stupid life.

It didn’t end how he expected it to end. He could remember the loud explosion. He could remember the burning pain of his own body. But he didn’t die. He stood up, he stood in the ashes of his own house, covered in ash and soot as he stood there, he could see them in the distance. Setting up, fire trucks being held back by government looking people. And his eyes locked on the man. The one with blonde hair who just smiled at him through the smoke. And he felt nothing but pure hatred and indifference as he turned to run into the woods and away from the chaos he caused.

—

He kept showing up though. The man he learned to be named Osmund Priest after a while.  

Blackwing and him kept showing up everywhere Aodhan went. He fought him, he tried to stay away from him but he was a goddamn parasite. He took in a deep breath while walking, hands deep in his jacket pockets, wearing clothes that didn’t fit he stole through his life on the streets. And he was always there every time, he finally stopped when he heard the man’s boots behind him. He turned to look at him, turned to face him. Cigarette clenched between his teeth as he glared at the man with a look of murder in his eyes. He was about to grab a coin, about to turn it into a bomb to throw at him.

Instead he was met with something hitting his foot. He looked down just in time to see it blow, seeing the smoke surround him, to take him over. He gasped trying to step back coughing from it as he fell on his knees, everything was spinning and his body felt so heavy. He couldn’t breathe, he couldn’t move, just fell on the floor. He could feel his discarded cigarette burning him.

But there was nothing he could do as his eyes got heavy, and the man’s giggle filled the air around him.

—

It was weird, to be awake but not be able to move. Everything felt groggy and floaty as he watched people around him. Could pick up bits and pieces of what they were saying but weren’t able to track it, he wasn’t able to track anything. He groaned when he felt a hand in his hair, yanking his head back and he found himself looking at Osmund. Staring up at him blinking mouth trying to move but he couldn’t even do that. His mouth felt dry, it was annoying and irritating and he wanted to ask for water but he couldn’t.  

He couldn’t do anything.

He closed his eyes as Osmund smiled down at him, he wanted to know what was going on but he didn’t in one go.  

“-vitals-”

“-erything looks go– can get star–” there was something cold on his chest. “–way.” His eyes shot open from the sudden pain in his chest. Starting from his collarbone and working its way to his sternum. He could feel tears in his eyes already pouring out. And there was something so horrifying about being in your body and not able to move it. He couldn’t even scream, but he wanted to. Could just feel the oxygen forced inside of his body from the mouth over him. Could feel his heart racing. Hear it in his ears almost felt like he might be able to move his fingers as his eyes stayed locked on Osmund who hovered over him and stared at whatever they were doing to him.

“Up the sedative.” Sedative… the word spun and bounced around in his head. Is that why he couldn’t move, is that why his mind was trapped in his body. Why couldn’t they knock him out. He could hear, and feel the way his skin was being pulled apart. He wanted to move. He wanted to throw up. He wanted to scream. But he couldn’t do anything but lay there as tears flowed down the side of his face like a goddamn river. And Osmund… fucking Osmund. Just looked down at him.

Holding that smug smile as he leaned down and used his hands to wipe his tears away. Kissing his forehead in an almost tender way that had him closing his eyes.

“You’re going to have so much fun here, Aodhan.”

_I want to die. Please just kill me. God almighty, please let me die._

But of course God wasn’t merciful. He should have known he wouldn’t be from the beginning. Should have known that to hope that almighty being would forgive him for his sins was never going to happen. He was cursed, he was given a horrible curse that lead him nothing but misery. He killed his family. He brought a man that killed his Grandma into his life just for existing. He lived on the run for months where he did questionable and horrible things and he would never wash the blood off his hands.

He was in hell. This was his hell. Hell was being caught and trapped in your own body, unable to speak, unable to move. Just sit there as a floating consciousness watching and feeling  _everything_  that happens to you. There was no god here. Only devils who looked like men. Only devils who came in to poke at him. To check on him. To hurt him. Devils that would talk about him like he wasn’t even there.

And he felt nothing for any of them but sheer and utter hatred as they covered his body in scars and tattoos. A body he never wanted anyway they defiled it with their experiments and made him lose control over everything. Except for those days when his tolerance went up. When he could move and he could fight and he could kill these people trying to escape until he was given more drugs. And more. And more. And more. Until he stopped caring.


	17. Hostage

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Pete and Ken take Priest Hostage in an attempt to capture the embodiment of the universe.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

>  **Characters** : Pete Cook. Osmund Priest. Ken Adams. Hugo Friedkin.  
>  **Warning** : Abuse. Torture. Blood. Gore. Descriptions of very badly broken bones. Priest’s POV  
>  **Note** : Dark AU for Frenemies~

“Mr. Priest!”

“Go! Get out of here!” He fought as hard as he could against the stupid fucking net he was trapped in, growling as he could see Farah and Todd physically pick up Dirk to carry him away. He winced when the net started to constrict, the rope it was attached to pulling and dragging him across the asphalt scraping him up badly in the process. He grunted as he ended up feeling mummified in the damn thing that kept pulling him closer and closer to the assholes that got him.

“I always did enjoy hunting as a kid.” He actually sneered up at the man, looking to Pete who stood there so casually in his nice fancy colorful suit. Looking pleased as punch with himself as he held up the gun the net launched from. “It was… I dunno, relaxing I suppose… Watching your target, waiting for the precise moment that it felt safe and welcome and invited. And then just… b a n g.” He pressed a button on the side of the gun and Priest actually let a scream out from the electric shock that wracked through his whole body.

Writhing and twitching and trying so hard to escape from the net but he couldn’t move. He couldn’t move anything he was trapped. He closed his eyes and grit his teeth, not even realizing the man had stopped from how much he still felt like he was being electrocuted. Could feel his muscles spasm, and twitch and convulse and cramp. He groaned with a small whimper when he felt Pete kick his thigh, blinking as he forced unfocused eyes to land on him.

“I asked if you like hunting.” He just growled in response getting a little laugh from the man who turned to look at the other agents in the room. “Bag him and tag him boys!” He was whistling while walking away, and Priest grunted as he was grabbed and thrown into the back of a truck. He couldn’t even really fight, he was still having issues from getting shocked that bad. Made him wonder how strong the voltage was as he eventually lost consciousness in the back of the truck.

He came to from ice cold water splashing on him. He jolted away and instantly began shivering as his eyes took in his environment. Could see Pete standing in front of him holding a bucket. He was wearing a pink tank top and a pair of black pants, had gloves on. He stared at it before his eyes took in the rest of the room. They froze on Ken who he could see standing in the back corner, he moved to try and lurch out of the chair. He was going to get him, he was going to kill him. But that was ruined from the fact he was chained down. Not even able to get his ass off the seat before he was pulled short and fell back down.

He looked down finally, seeing his arms pinned to metal chair arms with a heavy shackle that took up a good chunk of his wrist and forearm. Looking to his feet he could see the same type of restraint on his ankles, he blinked when he felt a hand in his hair. Head being yanked back so he was forced to look up at Pete’s face. The man just smiling, running his tongue along his teeth before letting go and standing up straight.

“You don’t get to look at him until I tell you you can.” Pete stated, shoving his head to the side. Priest just rolled his eyes while pulling at the restraints.

“Look, Pete, you don’t scare me-” He grunted when the man grabbed his jaw and shoved his head back, laughing from the statement. Like Priest had just told a joke.

“Scare!? No, no, no, no, no.” Waving a finger in his face, honestly Priest had half a mind to bite it. “No. I’m here to hurt you.” He grunted when he let go. “I don’t want you to fear me, that’s no fun. It’s so goddamn boring you know.” He watched as the man grabbed a chair and dragged it over so the back was facing him. He straddled the back of the chair and crossed his arms over the top as he leaned on it and looked at him. “I get so mad, at the crying, at the begging, at the cowering. Like, really, only reason I let Roscoe do this shit for me is cause that little cocksucker likes that type of reaction.” Stating it so matter-of-factly.

“Pete, you tellin me you don’t like that shit?” He mused the words out. The man just smiled at him, the light shining on his glasses in a way that made it hard to see his eyes.

“I like to play with people like you. Who don’t fear shit, who act tough, because it’s fun to break you. It’s fun to play with that spirit and strip it away one step at a time until it’s all gone. Then I’ll leave you to the people that like that type of thing. You know the crying and begging. Honestly, I feel like we all could have made a great team. You, me, Roscoe… We could make every project Blackwing’s little bitch one way or another.” The man sat up and grabbed the back of the chair with a large smile. “But I’m thinking about the big picture here!” He announced, standing up as he moved to spin the chair around. Checking it out and looking it over.

“What big picture?” He asked through gritted teeth, they didn’t know about his enhanced strength he could easily- He watched the man pull a capped syringe out of his pocket. And he moved fast, pulling his arm so hard he could feel the chair arm actually bend. Pete was just laughing as he stepped forwards while uncapping the needle, shoving his head back as Priest tried to fight only to get jabbed in the neck and injected with whatever was inside of it. He already could feel his limbs working against him, arm going slack and nothing moving. He looked down to them with shock before looking back up to Pete.

“You can thank Roscoe for this. New drug, his idea, we uhhh, use it for Aodhan.” He watched as the man moved, he could feel himself starting to slump in the chair. Only for Pete to come back and shove his head back. “It’s cool, huh? Completely paralyzes you, but oh here is the cool thing.” He was laughing while putting an arm around his shoulders and leaning in. “You’re going to feel everything I do to you.” Whispering it in his ear as he stood up. “This is the hand, right? The one that’s marked?” Priest couldn’t even move his mouth, just closed his eyes. Not liking this one bit.

His eyes shot open when Pete touched it though, pressing fingers against the brand as he forced him to turn his arm over to his palm was facing up. He winced from the feeling of the shackles digging into his arms, getting annoyed from him touching it especially because he couldn’t tell him right now that it didn’t hurt. But suddenly Pete’s face was hovering over his, and he started to laugh while letting go of the brand.

“Wow, your new master is good to you. You fucking him too?” He let out a heavy breath in reply as Pete just started to laugh. That feeling of pleasure form the violation to his brand turning into hot searing pain that actually had him calling out. He could feel his fingers twitch in reflex from whatever he was doing. But it was sending sharp. Painful. Burning sparks all the way through his nervous system. He felt like he was going to be sick. He was trying so hard to move and fight whatever he was doing only for it to be pointless. He couldn’t move. He was trapped. He was completely at Pete’s mercy, he could feel the tears in his eyes from the pain, feeling some of them fall and he gave a shaky breath when the man stopped whatever he was doing.

“Not too good I see.” The man mused. “How much do I have to hurt you for him to come get you?”

–

It was half an hour when he was able to twitch his fingers on his own will.

It was an hour before he could move his jaw and actually cry out and talk back from the pain.

It was an hour and a half before Pete completely destroyed his nose again. Cutting open the healed scar tissue and cartilage and hitting him so hard in the face he kind of just wanted to cut the stupid thing off.

He was spitting blood and feeling light headed and dizzy at the three hour mark. Head turning to spit out a tooth as he leaned forwards in pain and agony. He didn’t want to look at his branded hand which hurt the most, just sat there with his eyes closed, panting in pain. Sweat and blood dripping off his body as he looked to his other arm which was broken from a hit he took against the awkward bend he put in it. He could see his forearm was bent in a weird position and the nerves kept sparking in excruciating pain from it. He spit more blood before looking up as Ken finally walked over to him, Pete happily sitting at the table eating food and texting with someone.

Having such a good time over there with laughs from whatever he was talking about.

“All you have to do is call Hugo, and we’ll stop.” Priest just smiled up at him as he looked up at the man. Sure, he was a horrible mess right now with how badly beaten he was. Could just imagine how much blood was in his smile right now.

“No ya wont… and he ain’t comin, he knows you’re trying to catch him.”

“Abandoned again.” Ken said it while walking around him. He could hear him sigh from behind him and Priest finally decided to look at his branded hand. Which was broken and twisted and bleeding from bones that broke through the skin, he looked away again. Eyes closing as he saw Pete putting his phone down and wiping his mouth off before heading over. Holding a bottle of water and shaking it in his face.

“Thirsty?” Priest was dying for something to drink, instead he just spit on him. Which lead Pete to laughing before shoving his head back and pouring the water down his throat anyway. But in an obvious trying to drown him way.

It was ten hours when Hugo finally showed up. Standing in the dark corner of the room Priest flinched when he heard something break. Groaning and turning his head to look at the man who walked over to him cautiously. Grabbing the chair before they were pulled through a portal right as the door busted open. Hugo gave a heavy sigh in relief when they were just barely missed with darts. Hugo’s hand moved to touch him. And Priest began to writhe in his spot as wounds began closing and his bones untwisted and unbent themselves. Healing in a rather painful manner, he was panting by the time it was done. By the time the chair released him and he was able to stand. Stumbling forwards and falling on his hands and knees in pain and exhaustion.

“They’re like… not going to stop, Mr. Priest.”

“Then… let me… kill them.” He growled the words darkly, turning his head to look at the man who wasn’t even looking at him at the moment. “Hugo.” He would burn Blackwing to the ground…

“You’ll need Aodhan.” Did Blackwing lie about having him then. “And Bart.” God… that sounded like a horrible combo.


	18. Exhaustion

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Priest is a really tough trainer and Svlad just wants to sleep.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

>  **Characters** : Agent Svlad Cjelli (He’s young in this like 17). Osmund Priest.  
>  **Warning** : Abuse Verbal and Physical. Training. Sleep Deprivation. Svlad’s POV

“Please, can I rest, I’m tired-” He whimpered when he was smacked, Svlad just rubbed his cheek while tears stung his eyes. His head hurt. He was hungry. He just wanted to sleep. If Priest would let him, he would curl up in a ball at his feet and just sleep the day away.

“Again.” He was like a drill Seargeant. He wanted to complain about the man being his handler, but Scott had made up his mind on it. He watched the man, eyeing the tattoo and scar on his chest he could see under the man’s tank top. They had been trying this for so long now Svlad didn’t know how much longer he could even move.

“Please, Mr. Priest-” Hit again, it just made the tears stronger as he leaned his head back. Struggling to even keep his eyes open as the tears just flowed freely. He couldn’t contain them. The back of his skull was killing him. Trying to focus was near impossible when he spent so much time trying to keep his eyes open. Keeping all his focus on standing up straight, even now that the focus dropped, he was swaying in his stance. He knew if he closed his eyes right now, he would just collapse. He hated this, he wanted it to stop. He wanted to sleep.

“I said. Do. It. Again.” Growled at him, Svlad slowly forced himself to look up at the man.

“I can’t do this when I can’t even stand up right.” That apparently wasn’t the right answer because he was grabbed by the arm in one hand and pulled forwards. Another one slapping against the back of his neck, and with one easy sweep of the man’s feet he was slammed down face first into the floor mats with Priest on top of him digging his knee into his back between his shoulder blades. He yelped. He cried. It hurt.

And it didn’t end there as the man yanked his arm behind his back and pinned his wrist under his knee before grabbing the other arm to do the same there.

“Your opponents ain’t gonna care that you’re exhausted, why should I?” He had a point, but still. He could feel himself starting to slip into the clutches of sleep. Only to rather ruthlessly be yanked up off the floor, he gasped while stumbling forwards when Priest shoved him. Almost tripping but catching himself before turning around to grumble as he stared at the man with a tired glare.

“Mr. Priest-”

“No sleeping, we ain’t stoppin till I say you’re done.” He hated this, he just wanted to sleep. He rubbed the sleep and tears from his eyes while getting in the proper stance. Priest was just grinning and moved for him, Svlad’s movements were slower thanks to exhaustion. Weaker as he hit the man in the wrong spot and was easily thrown over the man and onto the ground. Winded from the hit as he coughed and rolled on his side, hand on his chest as he tried to breathe properly. “You’re so weak.” The words sprung tears to his eyes as he looked up at the man while covering his mouth trying to stifle his coughing. “You’ll be dead in seconds in the field.” Stating it so coldly.

“You don’t-don’t know that!” He was getting up now, angry as frustrated tired tears streamed down his cheeks. “I don’t plan on being exhausted when we get into trouble!”

“No one ever does.” He was wiping his tears away, trying to be strong. Trying to be something he’s not and knows he will never be. “You think running around doin’ your little case you’ll be in top prime condition. You think because I’ll be there, I’ll always be able to save you. This is supposed to show you how hard this is going to be. It ain’t a cake walk, sweetheart! This is life, and this move can turn the tide in your favor if you would get off your ass and do it!”

“I’m trying!” He yelled at him stumbling forwards as Priest got closer.

“Try. Harder.” He hated those words, it made him feel like a stupid kid again failing tests all the time. He couldn’t stop crying, he just stood there, a complete mess. Tears, snot, the works, head leaning back as he wiped his hands at his face for nothing. Trying to calm down, trying to regain composure. He flinched when Priest grabbed his wrists and pulled his hands away from his face. “You’re not ready. I’m going to tell Scott you’re wasting my time. Go to your room.” And he was gone, he shoved him back down on the mats and left him.

He curled his legs up to his chest as he hugged his head to his knees and just cried. Feeling useless and weak. He wanted to be ready, he could do it, he really could. He was just so tired.


	19. Concussion

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Dirk and Mona attempt to rescue Aodhan and get sadly interrupted.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

>  **Characters** : Dirk Gently. Pete Cook. Aodhan Murphey. Mona Mention   
> **Warning** : Abuse (Physical Mental). Head Injury. Dirk’s POV   
> **Note** : Just so everyone knows. When he gets there. Priest is going to make this worse lmao.

Dirk was shoving Pete back by his face, one hand reaching out trying to grab the damn remote he let go of when Pete yanked him out of the vent by his ankle. It was so close, it was in reach, if he could get it, if he could hit the button and unshackle Aodhan then maybe the man could help. He could hear Pete sigh, feel the hot breath against his hand. He gave a small ‘yip’ when the man pulled back. Dirk shifted finding himself falling moving to try and kick up by using the man’s chest. He just needed-

“So uncooperative, Dirk.” He could feel the man grab the front of his jumper with one hand, the man’s other arm wrapping around his thigh as he spun him around. The speed, the momentum, he was going too fast and before he could say anything, he got his back, and head slammed hard into the wall before he was dropped. 

Discarded like a thing.

He didn’t even realize the man was talking to him. He just sat there on the floor, vision spinning. His head hurt, he felt sick, he’s had this before from Priest. His eyes were locked on Aodhan’s, staring at the man who was strapped against a metal table. Hands left floating out as his wrists and forearms were heavily shackled so he couldn’t touch anything. He leaned his head back with a groan looking away from the man he wanted to save to see Pete just standing in front of him holding the remote.

“-istening to me?” He cried out when he was kneed in the chin, head slamming into the wall, his jaw snapped shut so tight his teeth were bleeding. He was falling on his hands and knees to the side. Throwing up, and he just kept doing it as he winced in pain from the loud sound of batteries hitting the floor. He was heaving throwing up stomach acid to the point his throat felt sore. He was moving trying to crawl away when he saw the empty remote drop and get crushed under Pete’s boot.

“How did you even get in here?” Dirk put his hand on his stomach, groaning as he tried to stand up. But his limbs weren’t wanting to work properly, concussion... he was familiar with this, he’d gotten a lot in Blackwing in the past. “Where is she? Miss Wilder... Why don’t you come out? I promise you’re not in trouble.” He was a liar. He shifted trying to remember what she was, everything was too bright in the room, his head was throbbing and he felt he was going to throw up again any second now.

“No-no... please-” He gasped when he was grabbed by his hair thrown against the wall he sat there and stared up at the man. Eyes blinking slowly as he moved. Tried to move anyway. His limbs weren’t cooperating. He felt tired from the pain, from the obvious concussion, the lights in the room too bright causing him to close his eyes with a soft whine. Hand moving in an attempt to wipe his mouth off with the back of his hand. But instead only ended up smacking himself in the chin with it, making him whine.

“I know she’s here, Dirk. You going to tell me or do I have to make her come out.” He slowly blinked his eyes open when he saw Pete step away. Watching him with a fit of worry as he began walking around Aodhan, seeing him watching the man’s twitching fingers. He stopped and moved his hand to hit a button on that metal slab he was trapped to. Dirk could feel the tension and anger that was rising form the man falling and being completely corrupted by Pete’s darkness. Really hoping that Pete wouldn’t realize that Mona was hiding in the vent... also hoping that she wouldn’t try to help him.

“She-she’s not-” He whimpered when the man grabbed his hair. Pulling him up, forcing him to stand on wobbly legs as Pete slowly let go. Hands moving to straighten out his jumper, like he was trying to tidy him up. The man just looked bored when Dirk stared in his eyes, he watched him stand up straight as he sighed and rubbed his forehead.

“You know... Dirk... I’m tired of this... I’m bored with this. You’re not fun for me.” The words felt like insults, he could feel his eyes filling with tears, feeling so over emotional from the head injury. “You’re so... boring and dull.” He wanted to argue that he wasn’t as he began to slide down the wall and sat on the floor next to his own sick. Feeling even more nauseated from the smell of it. “You want to know who is fun though?” Dirk could see him looking towards Aodhan again. “And you...” He could hear the man sighing, sounding so disappointed. “And you w—ust going to—n—ake him – ay from me. Have––one enou–– ou?”

Dirk was having a hard time tracking what he was saying. His mind tuning the words in it out, he could see Pete looking at him and he opened his mouth like he was going to speak but no words came out. The man was just smiling at him still could see him raising his hand to touch his ear piece.

“Send– ister Pr–” Dirk was already losing consciousness as he began sliding down the wall.


End file.
